Friday, May 13, 2016

Closed Tunnel

The saying: Every time a door closes another one opens; is often times hard to believe. We grow up with tunnels opening in all sorts of directions, each one ending in a different direction than the next one. We struggle to find the perfect tunnel to enter and at times we ponder the choice for several days or weeks before entering one of those tunnels. Some tunnels we can enter knowing that at the end we will have a safe passage. These tunnels are only one direction, we can not make a u turn and start at the beginning again, the choice is final.

But what if you had the choice to choose any tunnel you want knowing that you had one chance to turn back the hand of time and start from the beginning to go down a different tunnel? What if you had the power to control your future while knowing the outcome for at least this one instance?

What tunnel would you choose from in your life? Would it be fortune, success, happiness, love or greed? 

Imagine for just one moment, that question you so very much would love the answer to, but you are unwilling to ask because asking the question could change everything at hand. Finally you can ask that one question and if things don't turn out as you had hoped you can start from the beginning and never ask that question. What if that question you asked, the one you wish would have turn out to be the dreams you had, failed? Now that you know the outcome, would you be willing to face the facts?

Its easy to go day after day, having periodic moments of day dreams. Following those day dreams, you close your eyes at night for the full effect, your dreams now feel like reality and you no longer want to wake up.

You now used the tunnel which would hopefully be that outcome from your dreams, and it turns out the complete opposite from what you would like. What will you do? How can you continue? 

We have all had that one person during our life we thought maybe if I just ask they will say "Yes". But you never pull the trigger and they simply walk out of your life, gone forever. That casual encounter at a local store, best friend for many years, or that special coworker. 

Rejection is such a powerful word. We are all afraid of failure. This is why most of us fail to even attempt a goal, we are afraid that we will never complete it, or someone will laugh at us.

My most precious physical item is the manuscript I wrote as a teenager. I had received my special letter stating they want my book. I unfortunately did not have the funds to get the manuscript published. It now sits with me every day. The thought of attempting to get it published again, the thought that perhaps I could make a few thousand from this manuscript and begin a successful writing career. Why haven't I attempted again? Rejection.

Why did it take me 10 years to leave a job I had never really considered a career? Rejection.

Why haven't I moved back home to Chicago? Rejection.

I'm writing this post today because I am challenging myself to forget about rejection and push myself to experience life for the first time in years. I want to exit my hibernation chamber and become something I feel is special, not to make money, but to experience life.

The hardest obstacle I will face is looking at me in the mirror every day. 

Sunday, May 8, 2016

A Boucing Ball

Our hobbies define who we choose to become. It may happen early in our childhood, watching your brother swing a bat, your cousin painting, or a collection of stamps your grandfather left you.

Sometimes, our hobbies are just hobbies. We don't have a true meaning for them. In our boredom we turn to them to past the time. Hobbies sometimes though take us away from the world we currently live in. We stride to become something bigger than our self, something bigger in the world, and something to be remembered by.

My hobby is basketball. It begun when I was a young child, I do not recall the first time I saw it, or the first time I picked up a ball, but I do remember all the great times I had with it during my childhood. With the adversity I faced, I turned to my hobby of basketball to guide me on a path. I could put on some headphones and shoot around for hours each day after school, lost in my own world.

I was never any good during my youth, I never took it serious. I pretended like most kids brought up in Chicago, that I was Air Jordan himself. That I could fly like an eagle, that maybe one day I could suit up in that red jersey with my last time on the back of it. It was a dream, not a goal. I knew it would never become reality, but it was not about making something of myself, it was about taking me somewhere else. Away from the life I had.

To me basketball is more than a sport that James Naismith created in 1891, it was more than the ten players on the court attempting to score baskets. It was about finding myself, it was about removing the hatred in my life. I did not choose the game, it choose me. 

Even to this day, I can throw on some headphones, drive to the nearest hoop and shoot around for an hour, lost in my world. Pretending I was Michael himself, while my game has developed quite a bit since my youth, I'm still that same kid on the court, admiring the game itself.